


Harder to Breathe

by darling_pet



Series: The Flash S06 Drabbles [6]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Chemistry, Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Hot, Missions Gone Wrong, Problems, Reader-Insert, Stakeout, Trapped, Undressing, closeness, s06e05, will they/won't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-24 11:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_pet/pseuds/darling_pet
Summary: When things get literally and metaphorically too hot under the streets of Central City, you learn that sharing the last of your oxygen with Nash is one of the most infuriating things you’ve ever had to do in your life… and it may be the last.
Relationships: Harrison "Nash" Wells & Reader, Harrison "Nash" Wells & You, Harrison "Nash" Wells/Reader, Harrison "Nash" Wells/You
Series: The Flash S06 Drabbles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517003
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Harder to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Flash Drabble S06E05

Of all the days, you just _had_ to prove yourself on this day.

You just _had_ to show your friend, mentor, and Captain that you could handle this stakeout. And of course, when you finally track down the new Wells to the tunnels under the city, you thought you’d already succeeded in doing so.

You couldn’t even begin to describe how wrong you were.

At this very moment, you are trapped in an underground tunnel barricaded by rocks and debris (which was _so_ not your fault) with quickly deteriorating oxygen levels, and an insanely insufferable man.

_Huh… so _this_ is how I die…_

At the extremely unpleasant thought of your lungs collapsing in on themselves, you feel the need to do something. Anything. Being productive would be better than sitting around and waiting for impending death, right?

You march over to the blockade of rocks and start clawing at the smaller pieces and chucking them behind you. Some are more stuck in place than others, which you groan at, but nevertheless, you persist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Nash asks you. “You know that’s pointless.”

“Well, I don’t see you doing anything to help, wise-ass,” you reply.

“You’re using up all my oxygen.”

“Good.”

The thought he’s now put in your head is enough to make you stop momentarily and sit to figure out a plan in less than the allotted time a pizza can be delivered to a house before it’s free of charge.

Nash begins to shuck his jacket and tosses it to the filthy ground in irritation. When you try your dispatch radio again, it still doesn’t work. You should have assumed the same would apply to your phone, too.

“What did you expect?” Nash scoffs as he watches you. “Honestly, people and their _phones_.”

“Oh shut it, will you? Why can’t you just-?” You stop. He’s staring annoyed daggers at you for blocking you both in here, which you will deny until your final breath (which might actually be in less than fifteen minutes now). But it’s not the look he’s giving you that makes you lose your train of thought - it’s the fact that he’s… _undressing._

Nash’s fingers work overtime on the buttons of his shirt, which he angrily sheds and discards as well. Now all he’s left in is his white tank top, revealing what you weren’t expecting. How can someone so infuriating have such perfect looking arms? Seeing them in the orange glow of the underground emergency lights are not helping the unwanted heart palpitations in your chest.

And good God, it’s like the undershirt is see-through because, yup, you’re definitely seeing the defined outline of abs under that fabric.

He’s attempting to fix one of his devices as if that will help you. There’s no time. He’s getting frustrated, and Jesus, does he have to pant like that?

Okay, maybe he does because of the whole losing-oxygen thing…

But number one - you can’t stand this cocky bastard.

And number two - you do not want to be turned on by all of _this_ right now.

Then again, if these are your last moments on Earth…

“What?” he asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“What?” you repeat with the widest eyes a person has ever made in the history of ever.

“You look…”

“Fed up with your shit?” you offer with what sarcasm you have left to muster.

“No. You look hot.”

_What?!_ you shout the thought in your head.

“Contrary to what you might believe, but flattery won’t get you everywhere, Wells.”

“Huh? No!” Nash shakes his head, but he stumbles a little at this action and your hands reach out, seemingly on their own to hold onto his gleaming biceps. “I meant you’re sweating. You look overheated.”

“Oh,” you say awkwardly, “well yeah, I guess I am… hot, then. Yeah…”

Your hands still haven’t left his sculpted arms, but Nash - incredibly slowly - moves his to tentatively unbutton your uniform. You let him.

The oxygen really must be going to your head (or lack thereof). It’s making you let him do this. Your uniform shirt ends up mingling with his already shed clothes on the ground, leaving you in your undershirt as well. Did Nash somehow move closer to you? He feels extremely close…

Does his laboured breathing only have to do with the oxygen levels? Does yours?

Your body moves on its own now as you press your palm to his chest, and lean You look up into his eyes, then stare at his parted lips. It feels like your breath is his.

He darts his tongue out to wet his bottom lip.

You rake your teeth against yours.

And then you both hold your sacred breaths.


End file.
